This is a song about "Fine corinthian leather"

Spies are my brethren, stand with the leather skin,

Desire get confused and you could lose your direction

The battery packs and any bitch you ever kiss

A round, white-leather ball with red stitches.

Crushin up untill weed it is fine dust (fine dust)

Self-awarding, negligence of the less important

Go pop some pills or something

Leather belt fastened, like i'm travelling/

(the whoever has the ooze leather is band together.)

They call me conscious, and i think i'm better

So for this time being, i hope this open scribe might support her

The director, host is my agenda, italian leather

Whether any weather, nobody doing it better

I don't care about the nice cars and shoes with the leather,

To pretend that everythings fine

You shine like a mothafuckin dime